


Soft and Hard

by Friendly_Voices



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friendly_Voices/pseuds/Friendly_Voices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madeline did not lose gracefully and she would mock the naïve little girl with glee. It felt good, not to be the only one betrayed by Raymond Reddington. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vienna

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, not mine.  
> Secondly, this work is a gift to my very much pregnant friend and colleague who is a great fan of this show. Blame it on her.

Curiosity killed the cat, and yet Madeline could not stop herself from being extraordinarily curious. She had been watching that fledgling FBI agent from afar and she just could not understand what Elizabeth Keen was doing here in Vienna.

At first, Madeline had suspected that Raymond’s pet had been here to capture her, but not anymore. Keen was here all alone and as the days turned into a week, and then two weeks, it became quite clear that no one was going to join her.

Madeline observed her carefully and came to the sudden realization that hit her like a lightening; Keen had been stood up and if the solemn, glum look on her face was anything to go by, the agent knew that as well.

It was at the end of the third week when Madeline decided to approach her. Why? She had a fairly good idea who had left the young thief hanging and a little bit of taunting never killed anybody. Madeline did not lose gracefully and she would mock the naïve little girl with glee. It felt good, not to be the only one betrayed by Raymond Reddington.

As she slowly moved through the busy café, she watched Keen and appraised her. She was dressed comfortably, like a tourist in loose dark-colored clothes, her gloves and bright purple ski cap were on the table before her. She was pale, depressed – and yet there was burning determination in her eyes.

“Hello, Ms. Pratt.”

Madeline smiled, not really surprised that she knew who approached her, and sat down. She recalled that she had been impressed by Keen’s skills, and her cool. The potential the girl had was enormous; such a talent, such a beauty. Should Madeline be honest with herself, Elizabeth reminded her of her younger self – just waiting for someone to take her under their wing, to train her, to help her fully understand her capabilities. Pity that Elizabeth was Red’s, or had been was more precise. Madeline wouldn’t have minded to be her mentor; she wanted to retire from the adventures and dangers for some time now. While thrilling, it was becoming tiresome – and it would be a real shame not to pass her skills to someone younger.

“Good morning, Mrs. Keen.” She put a slight emphasis on the address.

Keen’s eyes flashed in annoyance – they had a new steely quality in them, which was surprising. There was nothing foolish or naïve left in the girl, Madeline discovered. No, not a girl – a woman.

“Actually, my marriage was annulled. Married to a hitman, isn’t that amusing?”

Madeline was shocked for the tiniest moment and then shook her head slightly, a strange sort of pity entering her voice, “Was he a liar?”

“Notorious. But aren’t all criminals?”

They shared a look. That was his favorite quote and it was all the confirmation Madeline needed. She had been right; Raymond hadn’t shown again.

“What are you doing here?” Keen asked and took a bite of her Sacher cake. She had a sweet tooth; that was the third time this week Madeline noticed she was eating something way too sweet.

“Just wanted to say hello, and…”

“Mock me a little?” offered the agent and it was in that moment that Madeline understood that Keen was no longer an FBI. She was not Raymond’s pet either. Something about her screamed hurt and betrayal and…

“Dear God.”

When Keen had moved, her clothes had shifted a little and the open cardigan had revealed her pregnant belly. She was just beginning to show, so she was not far along, but without loose hulky clothes on her thin frame it was rather obvious.

That would explain why she was still in Vienna even thought Raymond had stood her up; Elizabeth Keen had nowhere to go and no one to turn to.

“Is it Raymond’s?” Madeline knew her voice was shaking, and her eyes remained glued to the tiny baby bump until Keen adjusted her sweater.

“He is not good at keeping his promises, is he?” Keen’s answering smile was bitter and painful. “I got a check, instead.”

“Well, he had the courtesy to let you know he’s not coming, at least.”

“Lucky me.”

“Are you going to keep it?”

“Of course. It’s hardly the child’s fault, this mess. Would you like some tea?” Keen offered – she had a pot and a spare cup. Madeline looked down at the table and was silent for a long, long moment. Now, her previous glee seemed so petty, her anger that she had been replaced by her younger version so empty, and her jealousy so, so ridiculous. Being Raymond’s was not something to envy, it was something to regret.

She certainly did, oh how she regretted to ever believe a man like him – and Keen? Dear God, poor Elizabeth Keen was alone and adrift in an unforgiving world, carrying a child fathered by a man many would like to see dead. Madeline Pratt was one of them.

Madeline had been hurt, her pride wounded, but she hadn’t hated Raymond until now. What had been left of her attraction and fondness for him just died here in Vienna while she observed Elizabeth Keen, and the dislike she had felt for her rival had became almost instantly nonexistent.

She had been faced with the same choice, once upon a time, and she had chosen a life without such a responsibility. With sympathy and a great deal of respect, Madeline nodded gracefully and poured herself a cup.


	2. We

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie's POV

The sum the contract offered was very agreeable and that alone was the reason why it had been accepted. Madeline advised her to be cautious and Liz agreed that the maximum level of caution would be needed.

It had been years since either of them had come into any sort of contact with Raymond’s syndicate or his associates. The duo specialized in the beautifully demanding art of thievery of highly valuable and sought-after artifacts – from and for private collections – and Reddington’s business dealt with such things only marginally. He was notoriously known for starting wars and throwing down governments, these days.

As was Red’s custom, he had insisted on a personal meeting, but Pratt, Madeline had been slowly withdrawing from their business in the recent months, and her ‘niece’ Pratt, Elizabeth handled most of their contracts. They worked together, sometimes, to present a united family front and to let all of Madeline’s associates know that Elizabeth would be soon succeeding her fully.

They had been careful not to link the thief Elizabeth Pratt with the missing FBI agent Elizabeth Keen; she had changed her hair color and style, and she even had had a little plastic surgery done to slightly alter her face. Those who had known Keen well would recognize her easily, of course, but for those who had known her only in passing she was someone completely different.

Liz was certain that Red had kept tabs on her, as he had done all those years before, so she approached the meeting place quickly without any trepidation. This was about the contract, as Madeline had stressed several times. Doing business with Red was only that – a job. Both women knew how mixing business and pleasure with him worked out in the end.

She stopped before the private room – of another posh restaurant – and watched Dembe approach with a frown on his serious face.

“Mr. Reddington is expecting Madame Pratt…”

“Ah, I know.” Liz took off her large sunglasses and smiled up at the bodyguard, quite enjoying how he faltered at her voice and how his eyes widened when he saw her face clearly. “Hello, Dembe. I trust Red is inside?”

“Miss Elizabeth,” the poor man swallowed and nodded. “Yes, he is inside. But I am afraid that he is not available at the moment. There is a meeting planned…”

“Oh, of course, my secretary planned it. It’s ok, let’s just go in.” She breezed into the room without further ado. Dembe’s reaction, while amusing, warned her that Red was not expecting her – which meant that he had not kept tabs on her and hadn’t paid attention to the Pratt business in the recent years. This meeting should be interesting, then.

When she saw him, nothing happened. Her heart didn’t even flutter.

Red was sitting in a large plush armchair, a cigar in one hand and a glass with a double scotch in the other. He looked older than she remembered him, of course, weary and tired. The remains of his hair were more gray than blond and he had gained weight.

His eyes were wide and he slowly rose as she stepped further into the room.

“Lizzie?”

“Hello, Red.”

He waved at Dembe and the bodyguard disappeared while he carefully doused the cigar and tossed down his drink. Nonchalantly, he said, “Now is not the best time, sweetheart, I’m expecting company. Do you need… more money?”

The anger, searing and tearing at her so long ago, did not make reappearance. She simply looked at the man who she had loved in another life, and raised an eyebrow unimpressed. She was not that silly girl anymore.

“No, thank you. Money is not a problem. Actually, would you like the check back? I haven’t had a use for it, anyway.”

That forced a reaction out of him. He grimaced, something flashing behind his eyes.

“So, what do you want then? I’m in a hurry.”

“Meeting someone?” Liz smiled sweetly. Red didn’t disappoint. He leered.

“Yes – Maddie. I’m sure you remember her quite well. You two did not hit it off, unfortunately.”

“Maddie is not meeting you,” Liz moved closer and noticed that Red took a step back. Red’s attempts to bait her were leaving her sniffling laughter.

Realizing his unconscious mistake, he turned and poured himself another drink – another double. “What are you talking about?”

She sat in the armchair opposite to his and waited in silence. Red sigh, knocked the scotch back, refilled his glass and carefully sat down in his seat. He gave an impression of calm and relaxed demeanor, but he gripped his glass too tightly, and there was a tension quite apparent in his eyes. Liz had had trouble reading him, before, but her current line of work required her to be able to read everyone she met – and she was damn good at it. Nowadays, no one was able to lie to her.

He was nervous and afraid of her proximity and he wanted her gone. Oh, well. She had wanted a lot of things in her life, too, but sometimes people just didn’t get what they wanted.

“I handle the risky operations, Red, and when you are involved, it’s pretty sure it’s going to be more than chancy.”

He frowned, his left cheek twitched.

“You handle, Lizzie? Just what have you done?”

“I’ll need to go through the details with you. Why not start with what artifact are we talking about here? Are you covering the costs, should I add them to the contract? When do you require delivery?”

Liz was smiling while she was asking her questions – Red’s tick worsened and then he abruptly leaned forward, reached for her knee and patted it.

“Stop. It. Just stop, Lizzie, and answer my question. What have you done? What the hell are you doing? Madeline Pratt? Gallivanting around, stealing from powerful people with Madeline Pratt? Are you mad?”

Gazing pointedly at his hand on her knee, Liz cleared her throat. Red withdrew immediately and downed his drink.

“Continue like that, and this conversation is going to be pointless. I don’t like to waste my time. It’s costly, now.” She observed him.

Red looked into her cold eyes then, his lips moved as if he was going to say something – and then he simply exploded. He jumped up, threw the glass against a wall and growled, “Answer me!”

“Excuse me?” Liz didn’t flinch and waved Dembe away when she noticed his concerned face poking through the door. “Is there any reason why should I answer any of your questions, Raymond? How does my life concern you, pray tell?”

“Because you are the mother of my child! We have responsibilities!”

That was it. These words hurt like hell and sparked the flame of anger and hate and sorrow she had suppressed for years. Liz slowly rose from her armchair, took a step towards him and knocked him down with her fist. It felt good, and it was liberating. She split his lip.

“You will never again dare to use ‘we’ while referring to you and me, and you will never speak about the child, you don’t even deserve to think about him. Do you understand me?” She whispered and watched as Red sat up on the hand-woven plush carpet, bleeding on his expensive tie. There was something in his eyes, those quickly misting green eyes, that made her heart flutter this time, made it throb painfully. However, her voice didn’t waver, “Am I clear?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good, and find someone else to do this job, ‘cause we’re not interested anymore.” She put on her sunglasses and headed for the door. Her bottom lip quivered and two tears spilled from her eyes when she closed it behind her softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mistakes are proudly mine and only mine, though my beta says it's not that bad :)  
> The final chapter is from Red’s POV and thanks for your comments. Oh, and just that you know, I have another friend who's expecting a baby (last winter's nights must have been really really long). She wanted her own story. I obliged, so stay tuned :)


	3. Sammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red's POV

The Pratts moved around a lot, but Dembe had been able to find out where their ‘permanent’ residence was located. It was a place where they spent every summer and every Christmas.

Red walked through the tall grass, humming softly a lullaby his mother had sung to him. It was a melody Lizzie knew as well; he had hummed it to her when he had pulled her out of the burning house, and he had taught it to Sam.

It blocked the pain wonderfully.

Lizzie was sitting on a small stone bench under an old oak tree, her back facing him. He didn’t like the haircut, but he loved the color – vibrant blonde made her eyes so much bigger, much more expressive. The changes in her face were barely noticeable. The changes in her posture and demeanor weighed heavily on him; there was no softness left in her, she was only hard – hard to get hold of, hard to talk to, hard to understand and hard to love. However, Lizzie was not damaged like him, not broken. She was whole, so much stronger than him and Red loved her.

She heard him approach and she stiffened. Red didn’t blame her – he would gladly let her punch him over and over. It might numb the pain he was feeling right now.

“It’s only me.” His voice sounded so composed it surprised him. He must be in shock.

“Yes. How did you sniff me out?”

“I have my resources.”

“How did you get past the security?”

“I had my own SWAT team storming the house. It was not pretty.”

Lizzie quickly whirled around and Red caught for a moment a glimpse of a simple headstone. The ground under his feet shifted, he swayed a little. Swallowing, Red met her eyes.

“No permanent harm done, Lizzie. Your men are ok, and so is Maddie.” 

She sighed and rubbed her eyes – they were reddened and he himself felt the urge to cry, felt the wail building deep in his chest. He needed to sit down, soon.

“I’m surprised she didn’t scratch your eyes out.”

“She tried, but we came to an understanding and she… She was kind enough to… to clear a few facts for me… and to direct me here. May I?”

Lizzie moved to the side, making room for him and Red sat next to her. They both gazed at the stone before them; the white marble was sparkling in the sunlight which flickered through the leaves above them. Red wanted to reach for it or for her, but clasped his hands together instead.

“What did you tell her that she relented? She hates your guts more than me.”

“Do you?” Red asked softly, so softly it was almost inaudible. He couldn’t tear his eyes off away from the stone, and he didn’t want to see her face, so afraid of her answer.

“I wish so, and sometimes I think I do.”

“But do you really?” It was a matter of life and death, to know the answer to his question.

A sigh – and then, “No.”

“That’s good.” Red smiled and wiped his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed when he had started to cry. Lizzie turned to him and startled at the sight of his tears. “That’s really good. I don’t want you to hate me, sweetheart.”

“I don’t love you either.”

“I don’t deserve it, anyway.” Red slid down to the grass in front of the headstone and gently touched the name there. _Samuel Scott_. The date of birth and death were the same.

“I didn’t want to do this, to feel like this ever again.” He lovingly traced the letters with his fingers, his hold on emotions slipping quickly. “With me as the father, you two would have been hunted mercilessly, and killed eventually. I loved you too much to risk it. I wanted both of you safe and as far from my world as possible. So I didn’t show and I never checked on you in fear that I could lead my enemies right to your doorstep.”

“Oh, Ray…”

“Look at us now, the killer and the thief, alive, while our boy is resting in his marble cradle.” Red chanced a glance back at her and asked in a small voice, “Have I destroyed it all? Is it too late to make amends? To say how sorry I am?”

“It is.” Lizzie dried her eyes and gazed at him for a moment. She was so composed, having years to come to terms with their son’s death while Red had only minutes. Then she shook her head, the blond curls bouncing slightly. “It won’t change what happened.”

“Is it too late to try for future?” He reached for her hand and squeezed, turning away, unable to see her rejection. “Could you love me again? One day?”

“I’m not sure, Raymond.”

Red closed his eyes and let it all go then, a wail finally escaping his throat, the heart piercing cry of a dying animal. Collapsing, he released her hand and covered his face, rocking on his heels.

A tentative touch on his shoulder, and then a firmer hold around him made him hope foolishly, naively, that one day Lizzie would be soft again, would be his again. But for now, Red cried for the son he had never had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, my friend didn't want a happy ending but I just couldn't leave Red without any hope... 
> 
> Secondly, my other happily pregnant friend forced me to promise that the story for her would have a happy ending. So... yeah, 'Twice Shy' coming soon.
> 
> Oh, and thanks for you comments :) I love them!

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, unedited by a native speaker, so all mistakes are mine... and I do love your comments. *wink, wink*


End file.
